


Thankful

by fictionallemons



Series: Benthan Holidays [4]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Oblivious Ethan, Pumpkin Spice, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner, Wine, pining Benji, until he isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 22:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16689856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: Benji surprises Ethan with a homemade Thanksgiving dinner. Ethan surprises himself when he realizes his feelings for his best friend aren't strictly platonic.





	Thankful

Ethan dragged himself up the last flight of stairs. Exhaustion made him feel like he was walking through honey, but he was almost there. He fumbled at the doorway until he was able to operate the keyless entry to the apartment. The door swung open and for a second Ethan thought maybe he had a concussion because this wasn’t how he remembered the Liverpool safe house. A light was burning in the living room, and something aromatic was emanating from the little galley kitchen. His team was on recon in Switzerland, and he’d been left behind in Liverpool to extract the last piece of intelligence from an arms dealer who’d turned out to be less than cooperative. But Ethan had succeeded and gotten the intel. 

Benji stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway, took one look at Ethan and said, “What the hell happened to you?”

Ethan shut the door behind him, making sure the security measures were activated. “What are you doing here, Benj? I thought you were on vacation.”

“Yeah, I was, I mean, I am, but I heard you were stuck here for another night and my sister’s is less than an hour away so I thought I’d keep you company. Make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid. But maybe I’m too late for that,” he said, eyeing Ethan’s face. Ethan reached up and felt dried blood on his forehead. He wasn’t certain if it was his or the other guy’s. He shrugged out of his jacket with effort. Why was Liverpool always so damp? He felt the November night air down to his bones. 

Benji came over, took the jacket and hung it on a peg near the door. He was wearing a casual button down and slacks. His feet were bare and he had a wooden spatula in one hand. He looked so familiar, so good, that between the fight and the delicious smells and the surprise of having Benji there, Ethan felt a little dizzy.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Right. Good idea. Dinner will be ready in twenty,” Benji said.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, part of my idea…it’s American Thanksgiving today, which you probably forgot. I thought maybe you’d like a taste of home.” Ethan just stared. “Or not. It’s stupid—”

“It’s not stupid. I’ll be out in time for dinner,” Ethan said, as lightly as he could manage while he fought the dizziness and an unexpected prickle of emotion that made his throat feel thick.

The hot shower loosened his muscles and he felt miles better after seeing the water turn from pink to clear. It hadn’t been his blood. But he did have a new bruise on his ribcage that looked like it would be decorating him for a while. He was lucky that particular punch hadn’t broken any of his recently healed ribs.

He normally showered in about three minutes, but he took his time, lathering himself lavishly, letting the stress of the day wash away. His mind should have been on the next phase of the mission, the one they’d execute when he got to Switzerland and joined the rest of the team. But his thoughts kept turning to Benji. Benji, who was here, who was cooking for him, who’d taken time out of his hard earned vacation to see the guy who was most responsible for putting him in life threatening situations over and over again.

He hadn’t seen him in several weeks and it just felt good knowing that the tech was a room away. Ethan felt that way about all his friends. He liked knowing they were safe and sound. Benji was no different. With Benji nearby, he could relax, breathe easy. He could enjoy himself. They could eat and talk, with no interruptions. Maybe there was some wine stashed away somewhere, or perhaps Benji had brought some. He’d shopped for this dinner. He’d shopped with Ethan in mind. The idea made Ethan feel strange. It always was strange to realize that people sometimes thought about Ethan in other capacities than as a tool for getting whatever they wanted or stopping whatever they didn’t want to happen.

Benji didn’t think like that. Benji liked Ethan as a person, he was pretty sure. They’d known each other a long time now. Enough to become real friends, not just work friends. Would a work-only friend take a break from vacation to hang out with a coworker? Definitely not.

Ethan finally shut off the water, toweled off, and tried to figure out what to wear. He wanted to get into his sweats, but Benji was dressed slightly more formally than that. He settled on jeans and a long sleeved T, and left his feet bare to match Benji’s. By rights the floors should have been cold, but one thing this safe house had going for it was radiant heat, and the floors were toasty.

He combed his hand through his hair, debated brushing his teeth and shaving, then stopped himself. Why would he shave? This was just dinner between friends. Thanksgiving dinner. Benji was such a sweetheart. Ethan would have to return the favor sometime. Maybe the opera—he could take Benji for real. No mission to interrupt the show, no assassins messing up their tuxes. Just two friends out for a night of opera together, looking sharp. Benji’s eyes would crinkle behind his glasses when the music started—

Huh. That was weird. Ethan was getting an erection thinking about opera. Classical music had never had that effect on him before. He shrugged and tried to relax.

“Come on, Ethan!” Benji called.

Ethan adjusted himself and went out to the living room. Benji had turned the table that often held building schematics and all manner of gear into a place to eat a proper meal with actual plates, not just take out containers and paper goods. There were two places set, complete with glasses. An uncorked bottle of Burgundy set between them. Benji emerged from the kitchen holding two platters. One held a roast chicken with mouthwateringly crisp skin. The other had potatoes, green beans, and something that must have been as close to stuffing as Benji could get.

“You made all this?” Ethan asked in wonder as they took their seats at the table. Benji started to carve up the chicken.

“I did. I couldn’t find a turkey, but I figured this was the next best thing. Plus, there’s only the two of us.” Benji cleared his throat noisily. “I mean, because everyone else is in Geneva or wherever. Anyway, yes, I made everything.”

“Amazing,” Ethan murmured, pouring each of them a healthy glass of the wine.

“I actually like to cook. Find it relaxing not to have more riding on the outcome of a project than if something tastes good or not.”

“Well this tastes incredible.” Ethan swallowed bites of everything. Maybe it was because he was suddenly starving, or because it had been so unexpected, or because Benji had made it, but this was the best meal he could remember having in a long time. “Thank you, Benji.”

Benji looked pleased and a bit pink around the ears. “You’re welcome, Ethan.”

They ate and talked about work for a while, and then they stopped talking about work and started talking about random things. Benji told Ethan a story about sheep and his high school’s soccer team that had Ethan wheezing with laughter. Ethan hadn’t realized they’d drunk all the wine until he went to pour and nothing came out. He felt so warm, so full, so…taken care of. So happy. He sobered a little at the thought. Happiness. He almost hadn’t recognized it for what it was. He wanted to tell Benji, but he couldn’t quite find the words.

“You take good care of me, Benji,” he said instead.

“Ah, well, sadly, that’s it for the wine, but I do have another surprise.” Benji cleared their plates the kitchen and came back with a small tub and two spoons. “Again, I know pie is traditional, but I saw this and thought it might be even better.”

Ethan read the label. “Pumpkin spice gelato. What will they think of next?” He took the spoon Benji offered him and dug in. The flavor of pumpkin pie was wrapped in the texture and icy coldness of gelato and he couldn’t help his moan of appreciation. “Okay, that’s good.”

Benji took a taste and nodded. “I approve.” They ate their treat in silence. It was oddly intimate to both be eating out of the same container. Ethan felt his spoon knock up against Benji’s and he looked up, smiling. Benji caught his eye, smiled back. Ethan hadn’t realized how close Benji was. He’d scooted his chair around so they could share more easily, and he was maybe a foot away. Ethan could see the fine lines edging Benji’s eyes. He’d grown leaner, tougher over the years. He was no longer the baby-faced analyst Ethan had first met. They were both older, had both been hardened into weapons with very specific skill sets. But still, Ethan hadn’t known that Benji could do all this. Cook and plan surprises and take Ethan out of his head and into a place almost like peace. Ethan wondered if Benji would have done all this for Luther, say. Or Jane. Would he have done it for any of his lonely American friends? Cooked them Thanksgiving dinner?

“You know, it’s tradition to say what you’re thankful for on Thanksgiving,” he said, setting his spoon down on the table.

“Hmm. I’m thankful for the madman who decided to put pumpkin in ice cream. This is delicious,” Benji said with his usual jokey charm. Ethan stared at him until he relented. “Oh, fine. I’m thankful for—radiant heat. And good friends. I’m thankful to be here. With you.” Benji was definitely pink now, and not looking at Ethan anymore.

Ethan felt warm all over. He felt like he’d finally uncovered a piece of the puzzle that made all the other pieces fit. “I’m thankful to be here with you, too, Benji,” he said slowly, seriously. “You’re my best friend.”

“I-I am?” Benji sounded surprised.

“You are,” Ethan said.

“Oh. That’s good, I guess,” Benji sounded sort of—disappointed?

“You guess?”

“Well, no, of course, that’s always lovely to hear, that you’re someone’s best friend,” Benji said.

“But?”

“But nothing, Ethan, forget it.” He put the lid back on the gelato, swept up the spoons.

“Wait,” Ethan said, putting a hand on Benji’s shoulder. He felt Benji tense under his touch. “Are you thinking that maybe because I consider you my best friend I also don’t want to kiss you?”

“To k-kiss me?” Benji whispered.

“Because that would be faulty logic,” Ethan said. “I do want to kiss you, very much. But if you don’t, that’s fine. Because we’ll always be friends.”

Benji dropped the spoons with a clatter. Suddenly, Ethan had an armful of sweet, warm Benji Dunn, and their mouths found each other with unerring accuracy. Benji tasted like cinnamon and allspice. His neat beard tickled Ethan’s chin. He practically crawled onto Ethan’s lap and Ethan shifted, making room, holding him close, all of his feelings finally making sense now that he had connected the dots of his own ridiculous psyche. Benji was his coworker, his friend, and the object of so much repressed lust that Ethan thought he might pass out from the tidal wave of longing and love cresting over him. He gasped Benji’s name, drowning in him.

“Ethan, hey, it’s okay,” Benji was saying. Ethan realized he was hyperventilating slightly. “Too much, too fast. It’s okay. We have all the time in the world.”

“Sorry, I—sorry. I’m okay. I just. I think I just figured out that I’ve been in love with you for…literally years. It’s a little much to process.”

Benji’s eyes grew damp. “Oh. That’s okay.” He didn’t kiss Ethan anymore, just held him, grounding him, letting their bodies get used to the idea of being next to one another.

After a while had passed, Benji said, “I love you, too, you know.”

“That’s—that’s good.”

“But let’s take our time,” Benji said. “There’s no rush.”

Ethan suddenly felt his exhaustion creeping back in. He yawned. “Forget the dishes, I’ll do them in the morning.”

Benji laughed lightly. “Ethan Hunt, doing dishes? I can’t imagine it.”

“You cooked, I clean up. But tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, all right.”

“Now we go to bed.”

“I already made the second bedroom up,” Benji said.

“No. Let’s go to bed,” Ethan kissed the corner of Benji’s mouth. “Please?”

They stood and walked to Ethan’s room, with its double bed. Silently, they stripped down to their boxers, and then slipped under the covers. They moved around each other, finding a comfortable position. Ethan found his arms wrapping naturally around Benji’s middle. He hadn’t slept with someone like this in a long time. It should have felt strange, uncomfortable. But this was Benji. This was the person he felt most himself with in the entire world. He kissed the edge of Benji’s jaw. “Is this okay?”

Benji let out a tremulous breath. “Ethan, this is more than I ever—I never thought—I mean, I hoped, but—”

“Hey, I’m sorry I was too much of an idiot to realize how I felt—how you felt.” Ethan kissed Benji’s jaw again, and then the pulse point below it. He felt Benji sigh and wanted to hear that again and again for the rest of his life. “And we seriously don’t have to rush. This isn’t going anywhere. I’m not going anyway.”

“Well, technically you’re going to Geneva but—”

Ethan considered. That was true. And he knew that there were no guarantees about anything in their line of work. “Well, we’re here now. There’s no rush, but I will be seriously pissed if I never get to show you how much I want you.”

Benji shifted so they were facing each other in the bed. “So show me.”

“God, Benji.” Ethan kissed him, soft and slow, breaking only to say, “I love you,” one more time before his mouth became occupied with other things, like Benji’s earlobe, his nipple, and his cock, unexpectedly thick and heavy against Ethan’s lips, inside Ethan’s mouth.

“I’m, I’m inside you, Ethan,” Benji cried out as Ethan swallowed him down. Ethan felt the primal satisfaction of feeling Benji inside him, of making him pant and moan and lose control. All of a sudden, Benji’s hands found Ethan’s hair and tugged, and any remaining blood Ethan had in his body went straight to his own cock. It felt impossibly hard, trapped against the bed as Ethan moved between Benji’s legs. He rutted a little, to take the edge off, but then Benji’s movements became jerky and Ethan knew he was close. He hummed around Benji’s cock. 

Benji shouted, “Ethan!” and then Ethan felt the spray of come hit the back of his throat. He swallowed reflexively, pulling off when Benji stilled. He crawled back up, and Benji kissed him. “You taste like me,” Benji said. “I didn’t think you could get any hotter.” They kissed like that for a long while, Benji cupping Ethan’s cock, sliding down over his balls, pressing up against his perineum, and then starting all over again until Ethan was a writhing mass of need.

“Benji, please, I need to come,” he said desperately.

“Can I taste you?” Benji asked, almost shyly.

“Please, yes,” Ethan said. Benji’s mouth was pure wet heat and Ethan bucked into it, watching Benji through heavily lidded eyes, unable to process the sheer turn on of watching his friend’s lips stretched around his cock. It was a pitifully short time before he was gasping and warning Benji that he was about to come. Benji just sucked harder and Ethan practically whited out as his orgasm erupted and he shot his come out into Benji’s mouth.

They lay together, worn out, sated, and finally slept, tangled and touching in half a dozen places. Ethan never wanted to let go.

The morning found them in roughly the same position. Ethan woke first, feeling sore in places he hadn’t expected to. He felt delicious, though, almost transformed. He was the same old Ethan Hunt, only now he knew something about himself that he hadn’t known before. He knew he loved Benji Dunn and Benji Dunn loved him. And no matter what the future held, that was something to be thankful for, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> A Thanksgiving morsel. Hope you enjoyed! Find me on Tumblr: fictionallemons


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